When my Mother died, I removed her furniture and belongings from the family home, leaving it empty and ready for its new owner. I did this methodically, seldom allowing myself time to absorb what was happening beyond the simple mechanics of dealing with a deceased Estate. As the house stood empty, I began to think about the nature of home, family, memory and belonging.
The photographs show fragments of interior architecture of a suburban house built in 1966 by the South Australian Housing Trust. It was one of thousands of basic domestic dwellings built to support the growing population, many of whom were new migrants, like us. They sought new lives as well as new homes.
40+ years later, new generations are moving into these houses as the previous generations depart them. The accumulated memories, embodied by personal artefacts, are wiped away leaving a blank page onto which new families can begin to write their personal stories.
This series depicts my family home as a newly blank page, the end of a story and the final page of the book that was my Mother’s life. They are my final, unsentimental glimpses of my family home. I hope they will trigger memories for me in the years to come.
Marcus Brownlow, June 2014